


Death-Defying Acts

by Medeafic



Series: Circus [6]
Category: Glee RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Circus, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dianna has two new experiences in one night.  Chris and John surprise everyone, and Di makes a deal with Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death-Defying Acts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faberryspork (jaymamazing)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaymamazing/gifts), [pippin004](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippin004/gifts).



> _________________________________________________________________  
> Warnings: Negative description of growing up in a religious environment; knife-throwing in performance context.  
> _________________________________________________________________

A few days after they’ve settled into routine in the next town, Lea declares herself finally ready to try a live run of the Veiled Wheel. Late one night, long after the evening show and after the troupe is safely sleeping, Di and Lea sneak into the Big Top to practice. The flood lights are unexpectedly on, lighting up the ring as bright as day, but no one seems to be there.  
  
“The trapeze net’s up for practice,” Dianna says, surprised. “The guys must have forgotten to take it down.” She’s not sure when they would have had time to practice this evening, but there’s no other explanation.  
  
It’s true that Chris and Zach are practicing all the time these days, although Chris still hasn’t made it up onto the trapeze. He’s managed aerial silks in the last week, although he stays low to the ground in his rehearsal work. Zach has turned out to be a natural for flying. He’s becoming particularly strong at trap-to-trap work, since no one has been eager to try catching.  
  
Dianna can watch them practice without any pangs of regret, because Zach is so enthusiastic and always anxious to ask her how she thinks he’s doing: is he kicking out too soon, is he tight enough through the turn? To Di’s knowledge, Zach has only complained once more about the slow training, and Chris quelled him with a single look over the breakfast table. But ever since Chris has allowed him up on the rigging, Zach has changed; his bearing is no less relaxed, but more confident somehow, more focused. Di recognizes it – she and Chris used to be the same, and especially so before a new act. Any spare moment of thought was taken up in mentally going through the revolutions of the routine.  
  
Zach is teasing her brother less in public, and sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking, he gazes at Chris with respectful adoration. It makes Dianna smile to see it – reminds her of Lea when she first arrived. Not that Lea adores her any less these days, but she’s also managed to make some tentative friendships among the troupe. She hasn’t had a tantrum in weeks, except for the time she and John went head-to-head about the artistic merit of the impalement arts during the drumming circle one Wednesday night. John lost the argument when he balked at Lea’s invitation to take a turn on the Wheel.  
  
“You can stop stirring up trouble any time now,” Dianna told him afterwards, but he’d just laughed.  
  
“Things are kind of boring these days without Hurricane Lea regularly blowing a gale,” he told her. “But I think she’s actually managed to blow herself out.”  
  
John picked up the nickname from Zach, and everyone has been using it behind Lea’s back. Dianna feels like a traitor every time she lets it pass without comment, but it _does_  fit.  
  
John and Karl have been helping spot when Chris puts Zach through his paces on the full rig, and when Rachel and Jennifer are free, they come as well. Dianna goes to watch them practice as often as possible, to be supportive. Zach has had a few tries at catching this week. He’s been practicing with Jen and Rachel, who perform a simple, single-salto for the pass, but most of the time he misses them. Once he got a flailing hand in the face, and had to stop to clean up his bloody nose. Zach has been less keen on catching since then.  
  
“I told you,” Chris told him on the ground, holding an icepack over his nose while Zach tipped his head back. “Catching someone is like willingly putting yourself in the way of a brawl. A human body is somersaulting through the air right at you, all arms and legs, and if they manage to avoid hitting you, they grab your wrists and  _drop_. It feels like your arms might pull off. It’s not as easy as it looks.”  
  
“No,” Zach said soberly, and then with a weak grin, “Although I think I’m better in a brawl than I am at catching.” The way Chris stroked his hair and agreed made Di’s heart warm, and she headed Lea off at the pass later in the lunch queue when she saw Zach’s swollen nose.  
  
“Par for the course,” Dianna explained, with a gentle restraining hand on Lea’s wrist. “You should also expect pulled muscles, sprained wrists, limping and bruising.” Lea looked horrified. “Oh, come on. At least there’s no danger of a knife through the throat with trapeze. And besides, broken backs are definitely  _not_  par for the course. Zach will be fine. He’s just up for some bumps and bruises during practice.”  
  
Now, though, it’s Di’s turn for practice. She pushes all other thoughts aside as Lea trundles the wheel into the ring, left of center so they won’t be hampered by the trapeze net overhead.  
  
Dianna approaches every practice session with the same professionalism and concentration as she used to bring to flying, because she’s found standing still and having knives thrown at her requires an extraordinary amount of courage, the more she thinks about what could go wrong. She’s still flinching slightly when the knives land, which she needs to stop, and soon. Zach and Lea are still performing each night for the crowds, but Di thinks that Zach’s anger and frustration during the act are becoming more real the more accomplished he becomes on the trapeze. They’ll need to swap over soon so Di can take his place in the ring, and free him to fly.  
  
Lea helps her step up onto the backboard and straps her in. The lights are bright, but keep the rest of the Big Top outside the ring in darkness, making it easier to imagine an audience waiting with bated breath, popcorn forgotten. Dianna straightens her shoulders, gives her performance smile, and waits for Lea to start flinging knives at her. It occurs to her that her role now is like catching on the flying trapeze – she’s willingly placing herself in danger, but anything that hits  _her_  nose will be deadly.  
  
They start with the easy stuff, no Veil, no movement, just Lea lazily throwing at the board around Di and finding a rhythm. “Ready to turn?” she asks at last, and when Dianna agrees, she spins the wheel. Di finds it a thrill now, to have the world turning and turning and knives clacking into the board either side of her head, her shoulders, her legs. They go through three rounds, Dianna feeling less dizzy each time she stops spinning.  
  
Eventually, Lea suggests trying the Veiled Wheel and Di agrees, trying to sound brave, or at least not petrified. She can see the nerves in Lea’s face, how she’s strained around the eyes and jaw, her muscles too tight.  
  
“It’ll be fine,” Di says. “You’ll be fine.” Then over Lea’s shoulder, in the deep gloom of the front track, she sees an apparition – her brother’s frightened face, swimming out of the blackness, and she remembers for a split second watching that face as she fell, no fear herself, just calm acceptance. She knew she was falling and there was nothing she could do, but she’d fallen so many times before that there was no dread left in the sensation for her, even as her brain registered she was too far left.  
  
She’d looked away from Chris, not wanting his terror to be the last thing she saw before death.  
  
She sucks in her breath, shocked by the vision, until she realizes it’s really him – he’s standing in the dark, watching them, caught between the desire to stop her and the desire to let her go. They lock eyes. Lea is double-checking the strap at Di’s waist and doesn’t notice.  
  
Chris takes one step forward and then two back, turns away and slips up the front track and out of the Big Top.  
  
“You’re shaking,” Lea says. “Are you alright? Do you want to stop?”  
  
“No. I want to do it.” Something so dangerous that no mere mortal should attempt it.  
  
Lea draws the paper down over the board and secures it. Dianna stares into the white and lets her mind go calm and blank. The board starts turning, and she knows Lea is counting, making sure of the rhythm, and Di, feeling numb all over, counts as well:  _one elephant, two elephants, three elephants,_  until the familiar thwack of blade into board begins, repeats, ends.  
  
The board stops spinning. Dianna releases her hands from the holders, her fingers stiff and sore. Lea does not immediately take the paper down, but Di can hear her breathing, afraid, on the other side of the Veil.  
  
Dianna reaches up to pull down the paper, and looks herself over. No blood. No cuts.  
  
“You did it,” she says to Lea, who is on the edge of tears. “You didn’t hit me. You didn’t hurt me.”  
  
“You’re alive.” Lea  _is_  crying now, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and collapses in a heap in front of the wheel.  
  
“I’m alive.”  
  
In fact, for a moment Dianna feels immortal.  
  
  
***  
  
  
They head back to Lea’s trailer, accomplishment bubbling inside them like champagne, and making them feel just as tipsy. Dianna lies on the bed to stretch out her back, and Lea sits at the foot of it, talking and talking until Di feels drowsy.  
  
Lea stretches. “Do you feel like another shower?”  
  
“I probably should. It was so hot today.”  
  
“I think  _I’m_  going to shower.” Lea gives her an enigmatic look and goes into the bathroom. She leaves the door ajar.  
  
Dianna sits up slowly. Is Lea expecting her to leave? Or…oh.  _Oh._  If it weren’t the middle of the night, she’d probably go running to Chris to ask questions. _Is it okay to experiment with the gay thing when you’re pretty sure the other person is into you and you might be into them but you just don’t know? Is that fair?_  
  
 _Of course it’s not fair_ , Chris would say, and he’d be right, but.  
  
But.  
  
But maybe Lea’s the one who should get a say in this whole thing.  
  
Before she can change her mind, Dianna pulls off her practice outfit, and places it carefully over the back of a kitchenette chair. She’s only in her underwear now, which she strips off too, because the day has been sweltering and she’s been up since dawn to help prep breakfast. It seems pretty disrespectful to go about seducing Lea in dirty underwear.  
  
Di pauses at the door of the bathroom. This could be a big mistake. Huge. Life-changing. If things go wrong between them—  
  
Dianna clenches her fists, and squeezes her eyes closed, thinks about taking risks.  
  
Lea, obviously, wants her to take the risk. And if Dianna takes a chance and it doesn’t turn out, she’ll survive, and she knows this down to her bones. She’s always had the heart of a risk-taker. She’s been down and out for a year, skulking in the shadows and keeping safe, allowing others to coddle her, but that’s not who she is – her nature is every bit as intense and forceful as Lea’s. The accident changed things, but inside, nothing has changed.  
  
Di steps into the tiny bathroom slowly. She’s keenly aware of every scar on her body, every imperfection. Lea is in the shower, the sliding door still open. She’s standing under the water facing away from the stream, but as Dianna watches she tilts her head back, lets the water sluice down her face and fan long dark hair over her shoulders and breasts.  
  
Lea pushes her hair back, her mouth opening for air, and blinks through the water at Di standing uncertainly in the corner.  
  
“Are you coming in?”  
  
Di comes closer, her fingers twisting into each other, welcoming the warm air emanating from the shower. “Maybe?”  
  
“Are you planning to make up your mind anytime soon?” Lea smiles, taking the sting from the words.  
  
“I feel like I’m not being fair to you. I don’t know whether I’m…I don’t know if I can give you what you’re looking for.”  
  
“Right now, I’m looking to shut this door. In or out, Bona Dea?”  
  
Di steps into the shower and soaks herself under the water until Lea pulls her face down to kiss. It’s strange to be kissing someone shorter – strange until Dianna loses her inhibitions in the sensation of slick, soft flesh pushing into her body and plump lips giving way to her own. Lea’s kiss is light, but her hands are sure; she slides her arms around Di as if it’s always been this way.  
  
It takes less than sixty seconds for Dianna to run the gamut of new, weird, good,  _great_ , and she’s so relieved she laughs. Lea pulls back, her lips flushed and full, her eyes bright. “Are you—do you want to—”  
  
Di cups her face and kisses the tip of her nose, pushes their foreheads together. “I do. I mean, I’ve never…but it’s good. So far.”  
  
“I want it to be good.”  
  
“It’s good.”  
  
“Let me wash you down?”  
  
“Okay.” God knows she could use it, she’s not Daisy fresh. Di smirks at the thought, but focuses on the sensation as Lea uses her hands, covered in body wash, to soap her up. The sensations to go from pleasant to sensual, especially with Lea’s vibrant, intense gaze running all over her body and up again to Di’s face, checking, making sure.  
  
Dianna thought it would be gentle. She thought it would be  _flowing honey_ and  _flushed petals parting_ , all those awful metaphors she’s read in old romance novels during her recovery. She thought it would be different between girls, slow like molasses, soft and delicate and tender and tentative. Afterwards, she laughs at herself. Crazy of her, to associate any of those words with Lea.  
  
The only gentle part is when Lea is being careful of her back. But Dianna is pressed up against the wall and kissed brutally, as though Lea’s mouth is now her weapon of choice instead of knives. It’s demanding and sharp, and Lea’s tongue should be a soft contrast to her teeth, but even that is strong and insistent.  
  
This is  _not_ how Di pictured it would be, and it’s far better than she ever imagined. Feels  _right_. Watching their hair slide together, black and gold in rivulets under the shower stream, is as fascinating as the way Lea squeezes at her nipple, twisting lightly at it until it’s firm. It’s a direct line to her clit, which tingles with every pull from Lea’s fingers.  
  
“I want to make you come,” Lea says into her ear.  
  
“Yes.  _Yes_.” She wants it so badly, but she’s also a realist. Lea is smiling at her and sliding a hand down her wet hip. “But I don’t know if – I mean, it’s not that easy. It’s just, before, with guys…”  
  
All the guys she’s been with – and there haven’t been  _that_ many, but enough to find this out – all of them have tried earnestly, but it was only once Di got her own fingers involved that she tipped over the edge. None of them ever hit quite the right rhythm. They were too hesitant, or they were too rough, or they slowed down when they should have sped up, or—  
  
She gives a sigh. Lea is looking determined. But then she smiles at Di.  
  
“At least let me  _try_. There’s a lot of fun in trying, anyway. What kind of things do you like? If you tell me—”  
  
“I like…” But she shakes her head with a self-conscious giggle.  
  
“Tell me how I can make you come,” Lea says. At least she’s not offended.  
  
“There has to be a full moon. And Jupiter, Venus and Mars have to be in a triune aspect.”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
“I  _am_ being serious,” Dianna tells her, laughing. Because sometimes she thinks it’s true. Some kind of miraculous connection would be needed. The stars would have to align just right. “Sacrificial goats are also required,” she adds.  
  
Lea goes back to kissing her, and Dianna can do that, no problem.  
  
“We can sacrifice some tofu if we have to,” Lea says after a while, allowing a scant inch between their faces. “But show me first.” Dianna glances at her lips, watching them move and make words. “Show me.” Those lips are starting to swell from the force of the kiss, their color becoming more intense. “ _Show me,_ ” Lea says for the third time, and Di becomes aware of a hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.  
  
She can’t look away from Lea’s mouth; it’s like a contusion, and when she bends to kiss it again it’s like kissing a bruise, sucking an already-made mark just to make sure it’ll stay.  Lea lets her do it, just for a moment, before she pulls at Di’s wrist again, leading her hand down between them until their fingers are intertwined, pressing between Dianna’s legs.  
  
“Dianna. Show me.”  Lea's eyes are huge this close up, nose to nose somehow, although Dianna is taller. She’s slumping against the wall, but her back doesn’t hurt now. When she tries to stand, she realizes her knees aren’t going to cooperate anyway.  
  
“Show you  _what?_ ”  
  
“I want to know how you do it. I want to watch.”  
  
Dianna could die happy right now, just as long as she slipped away from life listening to that voice saying those words, and looking into those vast, dark eyes.  
  
Lea gives another squeeze at her wrist and Dianna begins to move her hand, teasing herself. Lea keeps her fingers lightly on the back of Di’s, stroking her only by proxy, and it’s not fair.  _You do it_ , Di wants to say. She’s hasn’t touched herself like this for a long, long time, because it hurt too much for too long after the accident. It hurt to stretch her shoulder and arm down there, it hurt to make a repetitive motion for any length of time. It hurt to give herself _pleasure_. So she learned to live without.  
  
The unfairness of it slams into her and she’s incensed; enraged at a Universe that would take everything away from her and not even let her have that one thing, one small thing to redress the injustice.  
  
“Okay,” Lea says, stilling her hand. “Okay. You know what? Let’s go lie down.”  
  
She turns off the water, and takes Dianna by the hand, leading her to the bed.  
  
“But we’re all wet,” Di says.  
  
“Oh, I  _know_.” Lea crawls on to the bed. Dianna stares at Lea making her way up the bed, then looks away, and then remembers it’s not only okay to look, it’s the whole  _point_. She finds herself hugging her breasts, hiding them away.  
  
Lea reclines on the bed and catches the confusion on Di’s face. “Are you okay?”  
  
“No. Yes.” Di flails one hand, and then forces herself to put her arms down by her sides. She clenches her fists.  
  
“Lie down with me.” Lea holds out her arms, and the look of her lying against the soft woolen comforter, her lush body still covered in water droplets, draws Dianna closer. Lea’s hair is soaked, slicked back from her face and making her look like some mythical temptress.  
  
“You’re like a Siren,” Di says, smiling. Her own wet hair is dripping steady tracks down her back like trailing fingers.  
  
Lea sings an effortless scale, and Dianna, laughing, eases herself on to the bed to face her.  
  
“I thought Sirens only tempted men,” Lea says.  
  
“Apparently not.” Dianna leans in to kiss her.  
  
“Roll over,” Lea says afterwards.  
  
Lea tugs her gently until they’re spooning, and Di can feel warm breasts pushing into her back, Lea’s arm winding around her waist, lips on her neck. Lea’s other hand brushes across Di’s hip, getting closer to the throb between her legs.  
  
“Is this alright for your back?” Lea asks.  
  
Di shuffles until she’s more flat than on her side, so she can give Lea the full benefit of her glare.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Lea says with an apologetic smile. “Don’t kill me. I’ll assume everything’s good unless you’re screaming in agony.”  
  
“Could be ecstasy,” Di points out.  
  
“Pretty sure I’ll know the difference. No, don’t turn back. Stay like this. I can look as well as touch when you’re like this.”  
  
So Di stretches out, half on Lea and half on the bed, and lets Lea investigate her body. She keeps her eyes closed at first, but after Lea begins whispering in her ear about how beautiful, how sexy she is laid out like this, she opens them. Just in time to watch as well as feel Lea’s hand slipping between her thighs.  
  
Lea presses her whole palm down and massages in slow, small circles until Dianna’s breath quickens. “Good?”  
  
“Yeah. But more. Harder.”  
  
Lea, Di realizes pretty quickly, has done this before. A lot. She tries numerous techniques so she can see which ones make Di plead for more, or squirm away. She finds the right rhythm, the one Di always falls into in the end, and it’s strange to feel it happening when she’s not making it happen to herself.  
  
Dianna starts to feel disembodied, and grabs at Lea, finding a damp curved hip and an available hand. She clutches. Legs wrap around her and Di can feel Lea, hot and wet, against her thigh.  
  
“Are you close?” Lea asks, and Di, gasping for breath, nods. “Talk for me, I want to hear you.”  
  
It really is a Siren’s song, that low, husky voice in her ear. Dianna has no idea what she says, but she talks for Lea, makes words and sounds for Lea, louder and louder, all for Lea. When she comes, jerking underneath Lea’s hand, she shouts loud enough for Lea to try to shut her up by kissing her.  
  
“Oh. My. God,” Dianna says at last, her voice muffled by Lea’s tongue. Lea is almost on top of her now, their legs still locked together. Di’s jackhammering heart starts to slow, her panting decreases. Lea pulls back to look at her, breathing heavily.  
  
“You,” she says, “are  _so_   _fucking_ _hot_ when you come.”  
  
“Give me a minute and I’ll do it again.” Di stretches, her orgasm still rippling through her, making her feel like she’s floating.  
  
“Really?”  
  
Di nods with a pleased smirk.  
  
“Of course you can,” Lea says. “Of course you can. Oh, God. Dianna, you are  _perfect_ .”  
  
Lying here under Lea in post-orgasmic bliss, Di could actually believe it. But then she realizes: “You didn’t come yet!”  
  
“Too busy watching you.”  
  
Di puts a hand between Lea’s breasts to feel her heart, beating strong and fast, just like her own. In fact, Lea’s whole  _body_  is just like her own, and Di hasn’t had much of a chance to explore it yet. She gives an experimental pinch to one of Lea’s nipples, and Lea gasps – quietly, but it’s definitely a gasp. Di’s clit gives an insistent twinge. Exploration can wait.  
  
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s go.” She bucks up her hips so there’s no mistake about what she means, and Lea leans in to kiss her, replace her fingers before they start to move. They’re rocking against each other in a way that seems comforting for a few seconds, until the tension builds. Dianna’s climax crashes over her before she’s ready for it, brutal, and she gives a strangled cry, looking straight into Lea’s eyes.  
  
Lea shudders all over when she comes, shaking like a pane of glass in a storm, and just as fragile. She buries her nose in Di’s hair. Her breath is fast and heated on Di’s neck, but then she pushes off to flop on the bed.  
  
“Fuck,” she says.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I think I’m gonna turn on the AC.”  
  
“I think that sounds like a really good plan.”  
  
Lea doesn’t move. “It’s so hot,” she says. “Was it this hot before?”  
  
“We made it hotter, I think. That was amazing.”  
  
Lea makes a long  _mmmmmm_ noise of satisfaction, and twists to look at Di. “I’m glad. We don’t have to do that again, though. If you don’t want.”  
  
On the tip of Di’s tongue is a sarcastic reply about how no, the whole thing was totally disgusting and how dare Lea make her come like that – but the conflicted look in Lea’s eyes stops her. She reaches out to brush Lea’s bangs to the side. “Of course I want to.”  
  
“Oh.” Lea frowns, as though she’s making sense of the situation, and then she smiles. “Right now?”  
  
Dianna could go again, if she wanted. She only needs a few seconds or minutes in between, although there’s a decrease in intensity each time. But Lea looks kind of wrecked, and it  _is_  stifling in the trailer. It’s also very late.  
  
“Tomorrow,” Di promises. “We should get some sleep.” In fact, they should shower again, but Di is too tired.  
  
“You’re staying?” Lea asks, her eyebrows shooting up.  
  
“If that’s okay? I don’t think I have the strength to stagger back to my place.”  
  
Lea, thankfully, does have the strength to stagger to the AC unit and turn it on, before collapsing back on the bed. It’s too hot to snuggle into each other, even as frigid air begins to blow over them, evaporating both water and sweat, but Di places her hand in Lea’s palm.  
  
“Why didn’t we do this before?” Di asks, melancholy touching her heart in the darkness. “We should have been doing this for  _months_. Just think of all the orgasms we’ve missed out on.”  
  
Lea laughs. “Poor us. We’ll just have to make up for them.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Dianna knocks on Zach’s trailer door the next morning to speak to Chris – the two of them sleep there as a rule, since it’s larger – and is early enough to find them still asleep and tangled up in each other. She tactfully turns her back, and says, “Hey. Wake up.”  
  
Zach wakes first, and pokes Chris until he gives a complaining groan.  
  
“Y’r sister,” Zach mutters, and turns over to fall asleep again.  
  
Chris pushes himself up on his elbow, eyes half-closed, and runs a hand through his messy hair. “Di?”  
  
“I just wanted to say thanks,” she says, turning so he can see her profile. “For last night. Leaving us alone.”  
  
“’S’no problem.” Chris gives a mighty yawn. “What time is it? Is Karl—”  
  
“Don’t worry about breakfast,” she tells him. “Lea and I will do it this morning. You guys sleep in.” It’s the least she can do to show her appreciation.  
  
Lea is less happy with the idea, not being a morning person either, but she stomps over in her slippers to help chop things. Karl seems to be able to interpret her grunts just fine, and even whips her up an espresso, which Lea drinks gratefully. She rarely has coffee, preferring herbal teas.  
  
“Just for today,” she says. “We had a late night.”  
  
“ _Did_ you now?” Karl asks with a lascivious grin. “I’ll have to get the details from John.”  
  
Dianna throws a chunk of potato at him in retaliation.  
  
There’s still half an hour before the rest of the prep crew are due to arrive, but it gives the three of them time to chat about LA, about Lea’s knife throwing, about the time Karl accidentally set his hair on fire, about whether John’s idea to rework a clown car for the twenty-first century will actually work, about Anton’s continued efforts to get Bruce to okay the Cossack Drag for performance.  
  
“What’s the LA fundraiser like?” Lea asks. “Zach said it’s important but he didn’t know any specifics.”  
  
Di and Karl both groan.  
  
“It’s two hours of standing around with rich white men and trophy wives,” Karl tells her. “And a lucky few of us get to perform for them like exotic dancers.”  
  
Lea blinks.  
  
“Not literally, it just feels that way,” Di says. “You end up feeling like trained monkeys, performing for your owners, you know?  _But_.”  
  
“ _But_ ,” Karl agrees.  
  
“But what?” Lea asks.  
  
“But it’s important. We need the cash. We make sixty per cent of our yearly budget at that thing.” Dianna has had the facts and figures drummed into her since childhood.  
  
“Wow,” Lea says. “You sure know a lot about it.”  
  
Di gives her a blank look. “Not really,” she says. She doesn’t know a lot. She knows very little, in fact. She couldn’t tell Lea how much the fundraiser contributes in real dollar terms if she asked. She has no idea who decides on the attendees, how they’re chosen, or if attendance is likely to be down this year. The LA fundraiser has just always been a big deal. Huge. So important that even Bruce and Simon show signs of stress around this time.  
  
“I mean, it’s not all bad,” she says vaguely. “Performers invite family members, and that’s fun. We get both circus families and civvies, it’s always good to see them interacting. You could invite your foster family.”  
  
Lea whacks a large knife through the middle of a carrot. “No.”  
  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”  
  
Now is the time when Lea usually stalks off, removes herself from the situation without a word, and even Karl is rolling his eyes, expecting a diva moment. Lea wipes off her knife with a clean dishcloth and sets it down, staring at it.  
  
“I don’t speak to my foster family.”  
  
Karl and Dianna freeze, as though any sudden movement will make Lea flee like a scared rabbit.  
  
“They don’t approve of my lifestyle. God doesn’t like it.”  
  
Karl clears his throat. “God doesn’t like the circus?”  
  
“God doesn’t like a lot of things. The circus, television, make up, short skirts, sex, alcohol, lesbians…” She looks at them both. “And rock music,” she adds quickly. “Rock music is evil.”  
  
Karl says, “It’s amazing how much God doesn’t like, to hear some people tell it.” He shakes his head, and goes back to whisking eggs. “Rock music, though? That particular God must have really bad taste.”  
  
Lea’s mouth twitches. “Yeah,” she says, picking her knife back up. “He wasn’t much fun to grow up with.” She dices the carrot into perfect miniature squares as she and Karl discuss the merits of grunge versus punk.  
  
Dianna slices tempeh into uniform strips, and thinks about Lea’s family.  


 

***

 

The new aspect to their relationship hasn’t escaped notice; John comes up behind Di in the lunch queue one day and moans, “Oh, _Dianna_ , oh  _yes_ ,” in a breathy falsetto. Karl sends him to the back of the line. Dianna is mortified, but Lea finds it funny.  
  
“Oh, ignore him,” she tells Di. “He’s just jealous.” The idea that Lea can now take John’s teasing with such good nature makes Dianna think about how far she’s come since her arrival.  
  
So it’s a shock to see Lea revert to her old self several days later.  
  
Di and Lea have been rehearsing daily, both in the Big Top and in the practice ring, alone and in front of others. They tend to attract a small audience, because word is flying around the troupe that Lea is actually  _doing_  it, the Veiled Wheel. Respect for Lea’s talent has skyrocketed, and people are coming to Di to express their awe for her part in it too. “I just stand there,” she tells them, but every time she feels a little fiercer, a little prouder, a little more herself.  
  
All that’s left is the finishing touch on the costumes. They have a few weeks before they load-in to LA. The fundraiser is set for a week after their arrival, and opening night a few days after that. They always get extra time to prepare and practice in LA before their first public performances, and Dianna is glad of it. They’ll need it. Chris is still grounded as far as trapeze goes, and Zach is jittery, but repeats to anyone who asks that it’ll be  _alright on the night_. Lea is becoming more tense and distant with each passing day. But Di expected nerves from both of them. There are always worries about opening a new act.  
  
After breakfast one morning, Dianna and Zoë are heading over to Anton’s trailer for a costume fitting when Lea comes flying out of Bruce’s RV, screaming “How  _could_ you?” behind her.  
  
She won’t listen even when Dianna calls her, and Di worries that this will all end with a drunken Lea in another karaoke bar. But Lea heads to the Big Top instead of her car. Zach and Chris are in the Top, practicing, and Di hopes Zach can calm her down.  
  
Zoë and Di stare back to Bruce, who is coming out of his RV and speaking in a low, annoyed tone over his shoulder.  
  
Simon’s voice responds, “It’s a brilliant idea, and you know it.” He appears in the doorway and watches Bruce watching Lea’s retreating figure. “We need all the publicity we can get right now.”  
  
“You should have spoken to me first,” Bruce says. “We could have found a way to handle it together. You shouldn’t have sprung it on her like that.  _Or_ me, for that matter.”  
  
Bruce looks across to where Dianna and Zoë are watching him, and turns back to his RV. “We need to discuss this more,” he says to Simon, shutting the door again on his way back into the RV. “But perhaps there’s a way…”  
  
“I am  _dying_  of curiosity,” Zoë declares. “What’s got Hurricane Lea blowing so hard now?”  
  
“I have no idea. Whatever they sprung on her, they haven’t sprung on me yet.” They hear a distant shriek – Lea has ducked into the Big Top and commenced venting.  
  
“She’s so  _loud_ ,” John says admiringly, appearing from behind Bruce’s RV. “She gets some serious vocal range going when she’s cranky.” He glances at the RV and then jerks his head in a  _come with me_ gesture.  
  
“You’re a degenerate eavesdropper and you will only ever hear bad things about yourself,” Zoë tells him when they’re a safe distance from both the RV and the Big Top. “Now spill it.”  
  
John doesn’t bother teasing them. “Simon wants Lea to do the Veiled Wheel at the fundraiser, and he’s invited someone from Guinness to view it. Said it’ll be good publicity for opening night, which it will be, of course,  _and_ up the pledges from patrons. But when they told Lea she completely freaked out.”  
  
“But that’s what she’s always wanted,” Di says. “She’s always wanted to be the best in the world at something. If she’s verified by Guinness World Records—”  
  
“She said it would put her off,” John shrugs. “And I can see her point. Too much pressure, first time in public and all.”  
  
Di leaves Zoë and John arguing about whether Lea overreacted or not and makes her way to the Big Top. Anton and the final fitting will have to wait.  
  
Lea has quieted by this time, led aside by Zach to the front row to talk it over. Karl, Jennifer and Rachel are up on the platforms, watching Zach and Lea, and even from this distance their body language reads as annoyed. Chris has a contemptuous expression, but keeps his back turned to Lea so at least she doesn’t see. Dianna approaches him, her hands spreading in a wordless apology.  
  
“Not your fault,” he mutters.  
  
“She’s worried.”  
  
“She’s  _scared_.”  
  
“I thought you two were getting along better. I thought Lea was helping you with advice and – and herbal teas.” Herbal tea seems to be Lea’s solution to almost everything, but Di has to admit Chris has been doing a lot better since he ditched the caffeine for the chamomile.  
  
“We  _are_  getting along better, Di, but—” Chris breaks off with a big huff of air. “She just about burst my damn eardrums coming in here and screeching like that. I am never going to enjoy the screeching. And besides, I need to be able to concentrate too. I’m…today…” He makes a vague gesture, and looks up at the trapeze rig.  
  
“Oh, my God.”  
  
“Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”  
  
“You’re getting back up there  _today_ and you didn’t tell me about it? You’re in big,  _big_  trouble.” Everyone else in the Big Top has hushed, and Di is the center of attention now, but she’s too busy glaring at Chris to care.  
  
“I was going to tell you,” Chris says weakly. “It’s not like you think, anyway. This won’t exactly be the first time I get back up there since, uh. The panic attack. And the freezing, and the screaming, and the falling.”  
  
Even Lea has forgotten her rage, as she and Zach step back into the ring.  
  
“What do you mean?” Dianna asks.  
  
Chris colors and ducks his head. “I’ve been practicing, at night. With John.”  
  
“You’re stepping out on me with  _Cho?_ ” Zach grabs at his chest and pulls a face. “Ugh. You slay me, my love.”  
  
“I don’t believe you,” Lea says. She folds her arms. Chris’s eyes narrow and Dianna has an image of him snorting and pawing the dirt with one foot, like a bull about to run at a red cape. “ _We’ve_  been here at night, and  _we_ never saw you.”  
  
“No, but I saw you,” Chris shoots back. “And I had the courtesy to back off and let you throw weapons at my sister, so watch your goddamn tone.”  
  
“How  _dare_  you—” Lea starts, but Di interrupts.  
  
“Be quiet, both of you. And come outside. We don’t need an audience for this.”  
  
Dianna is acutely aware of the onlookers above. She turns and walks back up the front track, and the others follow, surprised but silent. Zach has come too, she sees when they exit, although he seems more amused than anything else.  
  
Di looks at both of them. “Chris, that was kind of rude.” Chris looks mutinous, but says nothing. “And Lea, you’ve been so good lately, but these tantrums – they've got to stop. We’re all tired of them, not just Chris. It’s unprofessional.”  
  
Lea gapes at her. “Unprofessional? How can you  _say_ that? We’ve practiced day and night for weeks,  _and_ I’ve performed in every show.”  
  
“This is Greenwood’s,” Chris says sharply. “Being professional here is about more than just  _showing up_.”  
  
The color has receded from Lea’s face now as she looks to Zach. “And are you tired of me too?”  
  
Dianna feels a stab of guilt at the torn look on Zach’s face. “Seriously, Lea, you  _can_  be kind of a drama queen. I’m used to it, but not everyone here is willing to put up with that kind of thing.”  
  
Lea folds her arms and glares around the small circle. “You have no idea how much pressure I’m under.  _No idea._ ”  
  
Chris starts laughing in disbelief. The tension between the four of them is growing thicker, but Dianna pushes on.  
  
“I know,” she says. “I  _know_  you are. But you’re not the only one. Chris is under pressure as well, and he’s not shrieking at his co-workers like you just did. Does that seem professional to you?”  
  
The Greenwood’s reputation used to be sterling, untarnished. It could open doors, and people in the business respected anyone who worked there. Bit by bit over the last decade, people have chipped away at that reputation, people like Dianna’s father, and now, maybe, Lea. Di wonders if Bruce has had similar thoughts over the years, whether he worries where it will end.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re questioning my work ethic,” Lea says, barely above a whisper. “And I don’t believe Chris can even get up the ladder yet, let  _alone_ perform,” she adds, her voice rising again. “He’s all talk until he has to actually show what he can do.”  
  
Di sees Zach cringing as she opens her mouth, but her brother beats her to it.  
  
“ _Follow me_ ,” he snarls.  
  
They all troop after Chris, back into the Big Top. Dianna has a horrible twisty feeling in her gut, and she understands Zach’s silence now. Chris is her brother, and she’ll always love him – but somewhere along the way, Lea has become just as important. She’s never even had to think about choosing sides before, and it’s throwing her off-kilter.  
  
“Are we all friends again?” Karl calls down. “Can we get on with it?”  
  
Chris walks over to his boxes, trailing his fingers over them in that curious pattern he has. Dianna has always thought it half-unconscious, half-superstition. He coats his hands in mag, before adding some to the pouch at his waist.  
  
Lea walks away to the side to watch, and Zach and Di step back up the front track for a few paces to get a better view. Di can’t stop herself from grabbing Zach’s hand.  
  
“You didn’t know about this night training?” she asks.  
  
“You think I don’t keep tabs on my honey? I got a mean streak in me, sweetheart. I may seem all laidback, but it’s just a front.”  
  
“Zach, please.” She’s starting to feel terrified for Chris, and she needs reassurance that he’ll be okay, that he’ll be able to do this.  
  
“Of course I knew.” Zach looks down at her, winks. “In fact the strangest thing about all of this is that I did  _not_  find out from John ‘Big Mouth’ Cho, who kept quiet for possibly the first time in his life. I got curious one night, wondered where Chris was disappearing to all the time, so I followed him. Saw what he was doing with John and figured if and when he wanted to tell me, he would. Now he has, and if it were possible to die of pride, I would be six feet under. He’s so amazing.”  
  
Touched, Dianna slides an arm around his waist and squeezes. “I’m glad he has you,” she says, and hopes her sincerity will overcome her awkwardness. It seems to, because Zach drops a kiss to her head.  
  
“ _You_ have me too,” he murmurs. “And you also have Lea, I’m sorry to say.”  
  
“Don’t say it like that,” Dianna says, stung by Zach’s attitude. “She  _is_  under pressure, she just…she doesn’t handle it well.”  
  
Zach looks down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Oh,” he says. “I  _see_.”  
  
She tries to pull away, but he won’t let her. “Come on, Bona Dea. I’m sorry if I’m being a jackass about your girlfriend, okay? Now just stand here with me and watch my boyfriend.”  
  
In fact, everyone in the Big Top is watching as Chris swiftly makes his way up the ladder without even a glance down. Karl is waiting up there for him, holding the trapeze bar and says something with a pat on the back. Chris nods and takes the bar. He holds it with one hand and steadies himself with his other hand on the rigging. Dianna wistfully remembers that moment, when everything became still and focused, the only thing in her mind a steady count of passing seconds to help her judge when to jump.  
  
Chris launches himself with a powerful leap, like a lightning bolt streaking across the roof of the Top. He needs only a few swings to get up to height –  _he always had a great swing,_ Di thinks – and, as though he wants to get it over with before he loses his nerve, lets go at the high point of his third swing and turns an effortless triple-salto. His spin is quick, his form tight, technique perfect; he bounces into the net looking almost as astonished as Lea does.  
  
Everyone in the Big Top stays silent until Chris has swung down from the net and taken a theatrical bow on the floor. Zach starts clapping first, so hard that Di thinks his hands will hurt later. Then Karl, Jen and Rachel, still up on the rigging, and when Chris glances at Di, she claps as well, and Chris looks  _relieved_ when he sees her wide, wide smile and teary eyes.  
  
Lea walks up to Chris and says something Di can’t hear over the noise of applause. Chris’s neutral face cracks into a grin and she can see him mouth,  _Thanks_.  
  
The applause trails off, but everyone keeps looking at Lea, wondering how she’ll react. But for the first time since Di’s known her, Lea is not preening under the fixed attention of everyone around her. She looks up into the canopy and across at Zach and Di, and then back at Chris.  
  
“I’m sorry about the tantrums,” she says to no one in particular. “And of course I’ll perform at the fundraiser.” She heads past Zach and Dianna up the front track without looking at them, and leaves the Top.  
  
"Is she okay?” Chris asks, jogging up beside them. Di pulls him into a hug, squeezing until he protests.  
  
“You were  _fantastic_.”  
  
“I know, right?” His face-splitting smile makes another appearance, and Zach grabs him and kisses him.  
  
“Well. I should go after Lea,” Dianna says.  
  
Chris pushes an enthusiastic Zach away from his mouth and says, “I’ll come too. You were right, I was rude to her. I shouldn’t have let her get to me like that.”  
  
“No,” Zach says. “You know what she’s like, she’ll need some time alone for a while. Let her think it over for an hour or so and then check on her.”  
  
Zach, as it turns out, seems to be right. Di kills an hour with Anton, who adds the final touches to her outfit for the fundraiser, before she heads to Lea’s trailer. She knocks, but there’s no reply. Di knows Lea is in there, though, so she opens the door and sticks her head around.  
  
Lea is sitting at her table, staring into space.  
  
“Hey,” Di says, and Lea looks over to her.  
  
“Hey.” Her voice is flat. “I’m sorry I acted like that before. And said what I did to Chris.”  
  
Dianna shrugs. “I don’t know. It got his ass up on fly trap in public again. Can I come in?”  
  
“If you like.” Lea automatically begins to make a pot of herbal tea. “I’m going to be perfect from now on,” she says. “You’ll see.”  
  
Di sits down with a little sigh at the kitchenette table. “We don’t want you to be perfect, Lea. That’s not what we meant.”  
  
“But I will be,” Lea says, an edge of the old obstinacy in her reply. “I will be.”  
  
They sit in silence sipping tea, Di trying to find the right words and Lea barely able to look at her. “I’ve really fucked up,” Lea says at last.  
  
“What are you talking about?” The twisty feeling in Di’s gut returns, and her fingers are cold. She wraps her hands around the mug, hoping to warm them.  
  
“Bruce will never renew my contract now.”  
  
“That’s not true. He’ll understand why you freaked out.”  
  
“No. You were right. I’ve been completely unprofessional ever since I got here. And today I screamed at him. I  _screamed_ at him, Di. He’s the creative director and  _owner_ and I screamed at him. And then I went and screamed at everyone in the Big Top. And  _then_ —” She gives a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “ _Then_ I insulted your brother, who hates me anyway—”  
  
“He doesn’t hate you. You two have been getting along much better lately.”  
  
Lea doesn’t believe her. “I’m not exactly popular around here. No,  _don’t_ , please. Don’t pretend. You think I don’t know what they say about me behind my back, what they call me? Hurricane Lea?”  
  
“They’re just being stupid,” Di says. “And it’s not that bad. It’s kind of powerful.”  
  
“It’s no Good Goddess, though, is it? Bona Dea.” Lea gives a rueful smile. “Look, don’t worry about me, I’m just coming to terms with things. But I want to forget about it for now.”  
  
There are so many things Dianna wants to say to her – stop being so silly, cheer up, you’ll feel better tomorrow – but they’re all just platitudes. There’s at least one way she knows she can give Lea some comfort. She traces a finger down the back of Lea’s hand. “Let’s go to bed. I’ll help you forget.”  
  
“Gonna fuck my bad mood out of me?” Lea asks, but she smiles.  
  
“Gonna try my damn best.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
When the rest of the troupe is engaged in the evening performance, Dianna heads to Bruce’s RV. He’s been going over some financial papers, spread all over his desk, and he looks tired, but pleased to see her. “Uno?” he suggests.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, while dealing the cards.  
  
“I wondered if you’d made any decisions about Lea and Zach yet. Whether you might take them on as permanent instead of as contracts.”  
  
Bruce rubs his thumb and forefinger over his eyes before throwing some chips onto the table and putting down a card. “You know I took them on contract to see if it would be a viable alternative to salaried performers.”  
  
“But it’s not fair to them,” Di insists, tossing in her own chips with abandon and laying down a blue two. “Lea, in particular. She’s wanted to be here her whole life and having her on contract is making her jumpy. She feels like she could get kicked out at any time. And after today, she thinks you won’t even renew her contract at the end of the season.”  
  
Bruce places his cards face-down on the table. “Di, I love you, but not even you can convince me her behavior is solely due to her feeling  _jumpy_ .”  
  
“You’re the one who took them on. You must have heard something about her reputation before you did, because I’m pretty sure she couldn’t keep it under wraps. Anyway, she’s been settling down. And remember Anton? When he arrived—”  
  
“What’s going on here, Dianna?” Bruce isn’t even pretending to be invested in the game any more, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with his steady gaze.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I had Chris in here before dinner pleading for lenience as well.”  
  
Di is nonplussed. “I didn’t know that.”  
  
“Look, Zach I don’t have a problem with. But Lea…” He shakes his head. “Half the company still go out of their way to avoid her.”  
  
“Karl doesn’t. Or Zoë. And Anton, he – well, he doesn’t mind her. She’s contributing, you can’t deny that.  _And_  she’ll do the fundraiser performance.”  
  
“Yes. Chris has informed me. Lea, on the other hand, has not.”  
  
Dianna chews nervously on the inside of her cheek. She needs to find a way to convince Bruce. “Simon didn’t run it by me, either, the idea of doing the Veiled Wheel at the fundraiser. And I’m the one with the most to lose.”  
  
“Simon did not handle the whole thing well, I agree, but it wasn’t out of malice. He’s concerned about drumming up publicity, and he’s not wrong – we need it.”  
  
“We need  _Lea_.” Bruce doesn’t reply, so Di plows on. “Lea is taking some time now to reflect on how she’s been acting. She’ll come to you first thing tomorrow, and apologize. She’ll hear out whatever you and Simon have planned for the fundraiser, and she’ll agree to everything.”  
  
“She will, will she?” He’s smiling now, and picking up his hand of cards again. It’s a good sign.  
  
Di shuffles her card around, trying to find a strategy. “The fundraiser is extra-important this year, isn’t it? Greenwood’s is in a mess.”  
  
“Yes, we are,” Bruce admits. “Hence the contracts.”  
  
“And that’s my father’s fault.”  
  
“Not entirely, and I don’t want you feeling like you need to make up for anything he did.”  
  
Di makes an impatient gesture. “Fine. But contracts are not the way to go.”  
  
“I’m listening.” Bruce plays two Reverse cards to change the color and adds a yellow six.  
  
“Greenwood’s is different from most circuses. We’re one of the  _best_ , and we need to attract the best performers. We used to do that with the excellent employment conditions. It’s hard to bond with the rest of the troupe when you’re on a contract, when you think you have a year at best and at worst, you’re expendable with a week’s notice.”  
  
“What are you negotiating with, Di? What’s your offer?”  
  
“How much are you hoping to make at the fundraiser and opening night combined?”  
  
Bruce eyes her, and names what seems to Di like an astronomical sum. She stares at her cards, her eyebrows gradually returning to their normal position, and doesn’t back down. “We’ll make ten percent over that. And if we do, Zach and Lea get salaried. But you have to give me some leeway on the arrangements and lead-up. Deal?”  
  
Bruce lays down his hand again, and for a moment she thinks she’s failed.  
  
“I fold, Bona Dea. You have a deal.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
At breakfast the next morning, Lea has morphed into a perfect angel and is attracting attention – some mocking – for her mannered behavior and sudden selfless interest in what everyone else at the table has planned for the fundraiser. It’s a different kind of attention from before, though, and it allows Di to sit next to Chris at the end of the table and talk to him without anyone listening in - or so she thinks.  
  
“I need to talk to you later, okay? It’s about Lea and Zach, and the fundraiser, and – oh, a bunch of stuff.”  
  
“Can’t,” Chris says, shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth. “More training with Zach. We’re on a roll, Di, it’s amazing. Like I never took a break. You should come and see. We’ll definitely be ready in LA.”  
  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Di says, feeling deflated.  
  
“Gee, thanks for the support.”  
  
“I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I was just excited about – things. Of course you should practice, and that’s great news, I’m really happy for you. We can talk later.”  
  
He looks more closely at her. “I’ll make time.”  
  
“I hear you went to see Bruce,” she says, toying with her toast. “About Lea. I did, too.”  
  
Chris frowns. “It just doesn’t seem fair to me. Lea’s been through some heavy things in her life, and if we can make it any easier for her, we should.”  
  
“You’ve changed your tune,” John says from his right.  
  
Di expects Chris to flare up about the eavesdropping, but all he says is, “You missed my first public triple-salto of the season yesterday, Johnny Boy. All our practice paid off, big time.”  
  
“Are you messing with me? Really? Oh,  _man_. I miss  _everything_.” John’s outrage distracts the table again, and Di joins in on the teasing.  
  
The noise dies down, and Chris clears his throat. “But seriously, John. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.”  
  
Every head at the table swivels towards the two of them. John smiles, and looks down at his plate. “You’re welcome.”  
  
The silence breaks when Zoë calls down, “So you two finally kissed and made up?”  
  
“Oh, you  _better_ not have kissed him, Cho,” Zach says, and the conversation starts up again, people laughing and protesting and shouting over the top of each other. Di feels a swell of love inside her for the whole troupe. This is how things used to be.  
  
After breakfast, Lea offers to swap with Zoë on the washing up. Di reminds her that she needs to see Bruce after she’s done cleaning, and Lea bites her lip, but nods.  
  
Dianna heads back to her own trailer to continue making notes and jotting down ideas. She’s interrupted a few minutes later by Chris.  
  
“I ate too much,” he explains briefly. “Need to digest a bit before I can fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Besides, it sounded important.” He sits opposite her, and waits.  
  
“It  _is_ important.”  
  
Chris whistles when he hears the details of her conversation with Bruce. “Was that your idea, the ten percent thing? That’s a big call. Huge.”  
  
“Don’t tell me it’s not possible, because we’re going to make it happen. But we can’t tell Lea about the deal I made, or Zach either, I think. It wouldn’t be fair to expect him to keep it quiet, and if Lea knew…”  
  
“Agreed. The last thing we need is another buffeting from Hurricane Lea.”  
  
“Come on, people need to stop calling her that.”  
  
Chris grins. “I guess we should. So what’re your ideas so far?”  
  
  
***  
  
  
Di spends the next week feeling run off her feet, between performing and practicing and organizing events for LA, even though she conducts most of her business sitting in Chris’s trailer. “You’re not using it anyway,” she points out when he protests. “You spend all your time at Zach’s place.”  
  
“A man needs his own space,” he tells her seriously.  
  
“So does a woman,” she says. “God, John was right. You  _are_ a Barney.”  
  
“A what?”  
  
“A dinosaur.”  
  
“Yeah, now I  _really_  feel inclined to help you out.” He sounds pissed.  
  
“Come on, Chris,” she wheedles. “I need to feel like I have a work space separate from my home. And it won’t be for long, just till we open in LA. I won’t be here at night, either.”  
  
Like everyone else Di is approaching with her ideas, Chris capitulates in the end. Simon is proving to be a great partner in crime, making things happen and organizing any permits she needs for promotional street performances in LA. Bruce only approaches her once with concerns about how much everything will cost, but Simon heads him off during an early morning meeting in Dianna’s new office.  
  
“It’s all under control, Boss. Do you think I’d let Dianna drive us into bankruptcy? The publicity will be worth it. You have to spend money to make money.”  
  
“That’s exactly my concern,” Bruce says drily.  
  
“Let’s take a walk,” Simon says, and Di watches for an anxious five minutes out the window while the two men prowl. A Bruce back-slap seems to settle things, and Simon returns with an affable smile. “Sorted.”  
  
“Thank you.” Simon catches her reserve.  
  
“I know it might seem like we’re still sticking with the Old Boys’ club, Dianna, but Bruce does want you to have a role, take over eventually – if you want to. We’re just going to need a little time to get used to it. And you’ll have to prove yourself.”  
  
“I don’t mind proving myself.”  
  
“Then what’s got your knickers in a knot, my love?”  
  
She’s not sure how to put it tactfully, so she just says it, straight out. “Shouldn’t _you_ be next in line for the throne? I feel like I’d be stealing your crown if I took over after Bruce.”  
  
He laughs, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. Can’t think of anything more stressful. I get my fun in the spotlight as Ringmaster, without all the cares and woes Bruce suffers through. Finance, hiring acts, scheduling – no thank _you_. I help out on the publicity but anything beyond that makes me weak at the knees.”  
  
“Oh,” she replies faintly. “I didn’t think of it like that.”  
  
“Oh, you’ll be  _grand_ , Di,” Simon says with excessive, false enthusiasm. “ _Fantastic_. Anyway,” he adds, “we should focus on the now. And the now is, Bruce is giving you free rein for the fundraiser. Enjoy!”  
  
Dianna is certainly enjoying it, despite the stress. The atmosphere at Greenwood’s is electric. People are more than willing to help Di with publicity, offering ideas for street performances to promote opening night, and suggestions for the fundraiser itself.  
  
The feeling that they’re all pulling together for Greenwood’s is buoying the whole company. And at least once a day, Dianna stands on the wheel and lets Lea throw knives at her. It’s as important a ritual for Di now as it ever was for Lea, a tangible, daily symbol that she can survive anything.  
  
A symbol that Greenwood’s can survive, as well.

 

 


End file.
